


Chasing Rabbits

by Galiko



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Stupid Awkward Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galiko/pseuds/Galiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Nationals and into U-17. Yukimura's never really had a rivalry before, per say, and he feels like he should be angrier about being reduced to such a thing. That being said, he's really not THAT upset, and Echizen isn't exactly playing up the I'm-an-asshole card like he used to.</p><p>In which Yukimura is not so elegant, Echizen not so virginal (but not terribly confident, truth be told), and boys are stupid and dumb as per usual, i.e. it's not my fault that your tennis makes my dick hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Rabbits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daphnerunning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/gifts).



Yukimura supposes that he should be angry.

 

Looking at Echizen Ryouma certainly inspires a number of emotions. Bitterness, anger, regret, _disappointment--_ those are all things that Yukimura knows that he should feel, but he simply can't do it, not when Seigaku's entire team surrounds the kid, scoops him up and throws him into the air (it's just like the first year Rikkai won nationals, and he played Singles 2, and he did what the upperclassmen never could)--

 

_Are you sure you're convalescent?_

 

Mostly, he's tired. 

 

~

 

When they meet again at U-17, he's still not angry, but he thinks he has the right to be. 

 

It's all because everyone _looks at him_ with something that's akin to pity. He hates that. He's not the number one in Japan anymore; he's just another captain that was defeated by Echizen Ryouma, and that stings. Yukimura's never been fond of being 'just another' anything, and in this case, the pity that comes along with it sets his teeth on edge.

 

But mostly, there's something in his chest that twists a little whenever Echizen looks his way, and it's strange, because Echizen never quite holds his gaze. To be fair, Yukimura doesn't really want to look at him, but he refuses to look away once or twice, and their eyes linger for far, far too long.

 

"Do you want to play him again?" Yanagi asks, and Yukimura's shoulders rise and fall in what he hopes looks like disinterest. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sanada _looking_ at him, calling his bluff, and Yukimura hates that most of all. 

 

~

 

Considering how ticked off he is when Ryouma never shows up for his elimination match, Yukimura supposes that should be an indicator in and of itself regarding how much he wanted another chance to compete with the little shit.

 

His match with Sanada, too, isn't what he wants. Sanada looks at him like he's _disappointed_ , somehow, and that twisting ache in his chest is a dozen times worse when it's all done and over with. 

 

The real question is _why can't anyone look him in the eye?_

 

~

 

"You're not the _best_ at sleeping," Fuji tells him in that oddly distant, dreamy way of his, and Yukimura just settles for blinking back at him.

 

"Aren't I?" The medication, if nothing else, makes sleeping very easy on him nowadays.

 

"You chase rabbits in your sleep," Fuji tells him. 

 

Yukimura has no idea what that means. It must be rather clearly written across his face, because Shiraishi is the next one to chime in with a little laugh. "You kick and thrash a lot," he explains, not unkindly. "Don't worry, Yukimura-kun. If it turns into sleep-walking again, Sanada-kun told me how to deal with it." 

 

_Oh, wonderful._ Now he's the camp invalid. Yukimura offers up a smile nonetheless, because he has a reputation for being gracious when he'd much more punch a man in the gut for even looking at him on a bad day. "Sorry for troubling you." 

 

~

 

Every day that he's around high schoolers that he crushes to a little pulp, Yukimura is that much more aggravated that Echizen never even had a chance. 

 

What is the _point_ of a camp where the best of the best aren't around for him to compete against?

 

~

 

With that in mind, it takes forever before they all return.

 

Apparently, they were on a mountain. That just makes Yukimura stare the moment Sanada starts explaining it. He's very glad that _he_ wasn't on that mountain, but at the same time, he's not. It would be better if he were on the mountain, he thinks. It would be an actual challenge, which this camp has yet to present.

 

Then again, Echizen is back, too, though they still aren't the best at _looking_ at one another. 

 

"Are you still angry? About losing?" 

 

The baths are good, and they're better next to Sanada, who looks happier about bathing than any one man should be.

 

Yukimura's smile is wry. "I never was."

 

_Now if the little shit would just play me._

 

~

 

There are probably a ton of very lovely, elegant ways to bring up the fact that a rematch is sorely in order, but Yukimura's not terribly fond of that idea. 

 

Mostly, he's glad that he has a chance to meet Echizen's eyes in the locker room. The kid doesn't look away this time, though he does smirk, and Yukimura wants to put his fist through the nearest wall of lockers. 

 

"Wanna go?" Echizen asks, and Yukimura can feel his heart thud up into his throat. It feels, oddly enough, like when he was much younger, when he just started playing tournaments, when he'd still get a little shaky-excited to get out there and _play_ , and with that in mind, he nearly says _yes right now anywhere name the court name the place let's_ go _._

 

"We'll get thrown out if we play an unsanctioned match," Yukimura casually tosses back instead, his own smile never faltering as he shoulders his tennis bag. "And you've worked too hard to come down from that mountain." 

 

Echizen scowls a little, yanks down the brim of his hat. "They don't have to find out." 

 

There have been worse plans, and really, how much longer is he going to stay at this camp?

 

~

 

It's late at night, but they don't play for that long. 

 

Yukimura wishes it was because something in him snapped. He wishes it was because he had the nerve to reach across the net, to snatch Echizen up by the front of his collar and drag him over it and--

 

Well, _whatever_. 

 

The point is, they get caught. They're in the middle of a match, and his lungs are burning and his skin is slick with sweat and it's _good_ and it's _fun_ and Echizen is grinning like the little shit that he is, but then there's a coach and they're getting snapped at and hauled off to sit in seiza for a solid hour.

 

Echizen is sulking, but Yukimura is used to it at this point. Dinners at Sanada's house are way worse than this, at any rate. "Your fault," Echizen mutters, shoving at his bangs as he glowers over at Yukimura out of the corner of his eye. "Rallies with you are too long. If you'd just _score_ faster--"

 

"Oh, _now_ you want me to score points off of you?" Yukimura sweetly interrupts, his hands neatly folded atop his knees. 

 

"Didn't mean it like that." 

 

Yukimura thinks he should kill himself because it's the first time he ever thinks Echizen Ryouma is particularly cute.

 

~

 

The second time that he thinks Echizen Ryouma is cute is when the kid is wistfully staring off into space in the locker rooms. Yukimura can't really resist snapping his fingers right in front of his face, all to make Echizen jump and hiss rather like a cat.

 

"Thinking about another match with me?" 

 

Echizen scowls, yanks on his hat. "No way. I don't wanna now, takes too long."

 

Yukimura just beams. His thighs _do_ ache from seiza still, which is less good. "Then what?"

 

"…I just miss my cat, 's all."

 

Oh. Well, _shit_. Yukimura doesn't even have a chance to sort of strangle down any and all noises that particularly cute response forces from his lungs, not when that Shitenhouji first year comes out of nowhere and tackles Echizen nearly to the ground.

 

~

 

When he's ranked higher than any other middle schooler, his heart beats harder and faster than it has in a long time. There's a thrill in that success, the reminder that he's still the _best_ , and it's with that confidence and composure that he destroys another ranked higher than him and takes his place even higher on the list. 

 

Yukimura _is_ surprised that Echizen's reaction isn't to battle him for his spot right away, however. 

 

Instead, he's disinterested. Yukimura isn't sure if he's supposed to take offense from that or not, but he's glad, at least, that everyone meets his eyes again. There's no pity, no _poor thing_ written across their faces, and damn right he's back in form, damn right he's got this, damn right he's going to rule this camp with an iron fist. 

 

He could, however, stand to wake up less sticky and hot in the middle of the night, shivering down to the bone from the cold and weird effects of sleeping medication. He's never really entirely awake when that happens, and his world is a blur and he just sort of collapses back down, unable to fully wake up and do anything about the fact that he feels like death warmed over. 

 

(But that's nothing new, and it doesn't matter, besides, when he's the best once again.)

 

~

 

"You still aren't moving right."

 

Yukimura could do without Echizen's interruptions, too. 

 

He's leaning over the bleachers, arms dangling long and low, and watching Yukimura from underneath the bill of his hat. "Did the surgery take that much out of you?" he casually asks. "Tezuka-buchou made me watch a tape of you once, after I beat you."

 

"Did he." Yukimura rocks back onto his heels, pausing his swing practice. "What did it tell you?"

 

"That you're still not right."

 

Echizen's head cocks, looking at him, and it's hard not to swallow slow and hard. "I'm right enough to beat you," Yukimura says. The representative's badge is solid against Yukimura's chest. "Come take it, if you want it."

 

Echizen turns away. "I don't want that one. I want the one at the top." 

 

It's a reminder that he's _not_ the best, actually, not yet, and that takes Yukimura's breath away.

 

~

 

He doesn’t tell Sanada anything. Not really. Not anymore.

 

Of course, Sanada just _knows_. He’s always known before Yukimura even opens his mouth, and in this case, it’s better. His gaze follows Yukimura about the camp, analyzing, thinking, and Yukimura doesn’t have to say a word.

 

“If you need anything,” is all Sanada says, and Yukimura just shrugs. 

 

“Tennis will do.” 

 

Sanada looks as tired as he does.

 

~

 

Marui knows, too, and Yukimura hates it.

 

_Who else knows_ is in the back of his mind, and Yukimura hates everything the more that he thinks about it. Does Sanada know? He probably knows. Sanada always knows. He always knows everything, no matter how Yukimura doesn't want him to. 

 

He feels sick. It's not any sort of ailment kind of sick. It's not any sort of _hospital_ kind of sick. It's dread sick, deep and anxious in his belly, and it makes him lurch off to the locker room after Marui's match, huddling in a back corner on the floor instead of a bench. 

 

"Hey."

 

Yukimura doesn't need this right now. He doesn't need Echizen Ryouma breathing down his neck and telling him that he _still doesn't move right_ when he's still more than good enough to win and win consistently and get what he wants out of this stupid camp--

 

"Are you--"

 

"Don't talk to me right now!" 

 

The shrill sharpness to his voice obviously makes Echizen pause, but he doesn't leave. He just stands right next to him all before he crouches down and stares at him from over the hill of Yukimura's knees. 

 

"Wanna go play?" 

 

He might as well have said _I still think you move pretty well, even if it's not all right._

 

It's not good, but something unclenches in Yukimura's chest. His stomach stills feels like some flip-flopping mess and that could be better, but he's not thinking straight, and he's tired and everything aches because whenever he thinks about how he used to feel, everything seizes up and hurts and he doesn't want that. Yukimura doesn't want that at all, and there are a lot of ways to fix that but Echizen is right here, and that doesn't fix much of anything.

 

Even still--

 

He untangles himself from the ball he's curled himself into, reaches out, snatches Echizen up by the collar, and hauls him close all the same.

 

The hat comes off. It's the first thing that falls off when Yukimura kisses him hard and Echizen breathes in ragged and sharp through his nose, his own hands clawing at the front of Yukimura's jersey. He's between Yukimura's legs in an instant, and Yukimura's hands are on his back, sliding down and dragging Echizen closer to bite at his lips until the kid _whines_. 

 

"Yukimura-..s..sempai--"

 

Well, that's just not fair.

 

"Tell me to stop," Yukimura kind of mindlessly insists, needing a reason not to just keep at this, even when he shoves Echizen onto his back on the locker room floor. Echizen's head shakes in a vehement _no_ , especially when Yukimura's above him, kissing him hard, making him lurch up and grab at his arms and _mostly_ they're grabbing hands, really, with knees scraping against one another and legs tangling up. "Tell me--"

 

_Anything else._

 

Echizen doesn't say a thing.

 

Yukimura thinks that's fine. He thinks a lot of things are good right then, when Echizen is groaning in his ear and clinging to his hair and ripping off his headband and biting his neck, but then the door slams open and there are tennis shoes squeaking across the floor and lockers creaking open. They bolt apart, and Yukimura just _knows_ it's going to be another solid day before they can look one another in the eye.

 

~

 

He's not wrong, and it's cold sweats again that night that he can't shake off. Fuji is giving him a sort of twitchy smile in the morning, to which Yukimura meets with a quizzical blink.

 

"Rabbits again," Fuji says, head ticking briefly to one side. "Noisy rabbits."

 

"Oh. I'm…sorry?" 

 

It should be known that Fuji Shuusuke is really not all sunshine and rainbows, and actually gets pretty damned pissy whenever he's sleep-deprived. 

 

~

 

"Shit, boss," Niou mutters underneath his breath when Echizen sits across the room at breakfast and stares at him very, very pointedly. "You've got a stalker."

 

Yukimura whimpers, and tries not to think about blood rushing south, blood rushing south, _blood rushing south,_ about how Echizen had grabbed at him in that locker room, how he'd kissed back with a lot of very interesting little noises-- "Niou. Help me."

 

Niou gives his arm a pat. "I'm not gonna do that." 

 

" _Niou_ \--when do I _ever_ ask you for--"

 

"Good bye!"

 

Yukimura was sure that his life couldn't get worse. Sanada, at least, is fully up to being a furnace, and falling asleep on his chest feels as good as it always has. 

 

“Just get it out of your system,” Sanada mutters whenever Yukimura starts to complain about Echizen, and that’s about the best advice Yukimura can expect to get in a situation like this. 

 

~

 

The next time they end up kissing, it's Echizen's fault.

 

They're not that alone, either. There are other middle schoolers on the other side of the hall, but it's Echizen that grabs him by the front of his shirt, hauls him down, and kisses him hard. It's not like Yukimura can say _no_. It's not like he can stop himself from grabbing Echizen by the waist and shoving him against the wall and lifting him to make it easier to kiss him harder.

 

It doesn't help that Echizen is a warm, wriggly thing in his grasp, nothing but whipcord sinew and grabbing hands and breathy little sighs and damn it, but it _does_ feel good to press between his thighs, to feel the way that Echizen arches his back and just _melts_ when Yukimura kisses him just right--

 

It's probably less than nice to just drop Echizen on his ass the moment someone else turns down the hall, though. 

 

“You,” Echizen mutters, “are much more of a jerk than _anyone_ says.”

 

Yukimura just smiles. He _does_ love being told that.

 

~

 

The idea that he's a sleepwalker now is just _strange_ to him.

 

The idea that he has trouble sleeping in any way, shape, or form is just weird, but apparently it's a thing. Even Shiraishi looks a little haggard in the mornings now, and Yukimura feels honestly bad about that. Stronger meds? No, they don't seem to do much of anything, because he still half-wakes up in a stupor, and that's never good. 

 

He doesn't take them one night, and of course, he wakes up at two in the morning to shocking cold and sweat and shivers that make him ache down to his bones. 

 

Yukimura lies like that for awhile, an arm thrown over his face, trying not to let his chest heave. What even _is this?_ Panic attacks? His body warning him of what's to come? Simple anxiety because he wants to go out and play more tennis before it's too late?

 

The bed only creaks once when he slides out of it and out of the room. His tennis bag comes with him, because damn it all, he'd rather sit in seiza for an hour if it means gets to play tennis for fifteen minutes.

 

"You, too, huh?"

 

Echizen is like a cat lurking in the hallways, his eyes glinting gold in the dark, and Yukimura smiles wryly. "Apparently."

 

"No shoulder jersey tonight?"

 

Yukimura glances down at the jersey in question, and actually zips it up. "Too cold for that."

 

Echizen just nods, and zips his own up as well. "Let's go, then." 

 

It's snowing, but not badly enough that Yukimura feels the need to stop. The court is slick, but it's still easy enough to stay steady on his feet, and that makes him feel like he's actual capable again, no matter the weariness that he can never seem to shake. They aren't keeping score, not really, so what it's matter? It _doesn't_ matter, because they could be caught at any time and punished again and that's fine so long as--

 

_So long as this goes on a little bit longer? So long as what?_

 

Yukimura gets caught up in watching the way Echizen's breath is visible when he exhales out, a cloud of white in the air around them, and he _might_ have gotten service aced for his trouble. 

 

Echizen rolls his eyes, lowering his racket. "Play seriously."

 

Yukimura just curls one finger in the air, ignoring him. "Come here."

 

That means the net, of course. That means that their rackets are on the ground in the next instant, and Yukimura is hauling Echizen over the webbing and onto the other side. Thankfully, Echizen's easy to lift, and his hands are around Yukimura's neck, his legs around his waist, and with the force of which he leaps into Yukimura's hold, it's pretty easy to lose his footing on the snow and topple to the ground.

 

Well, that hurts. Yukimura hisses through his teeth, about ready to complain about skinned elbows and Echizen being heavier than he looks, but Echizen isn't having any of it. His mouth is on Yukimura's, his hands in his hair, and, well, a few bruises and scrapes are fine even though the court is cold and snowy and shit, at least _Echizen_ is warm.

 

"Yukimura-sempai," is that stupid, _breathy_ little exhale between kisses, and Yukimura sags down with a groan, his hands sliding down Echizen's back to the curve of his rear. Just grabbing it once makes Echizen's breath sharpen and his body curve into Yukimura's touch, and _damn_ if that isn't nice. 

 

Probably, he should feel more ashamed about this. Probably, he should stop Echizen from wriggling down against him, but sweatpants hide very little, and Echizen's cock is just as hard as his own when he rolls down. The kid's thighs spread over his hips when he _squirms_ , and Yukimura arches up, every kiss a messy, insistent thing, with his hands scraping down Echizen's spine and pants being shoved down _just enough_ for him to wrap one hand around both of them.

 

Echizen's breath stutters, white and foggy in the cold, and he spills with a broken noise, seemingly almost too-hot over Yukimura's hand. His face is flushed, a sheen of sweat there no matter the cold, and every muscle trembles, every muscle shakes, all before he just sort of _melts_ and that _shouldn't_ be as good as it is--

 

Coming that hard because of an obnoxious, bratty kid lost himself with one touch is probably less than cool. Thankfully, they don't talk about it the next day, and Yukimura is good at keeping his jersey collar popped to hide hickeys. 

 

~

 

The first time they _really_ have sex, it's thankfully not on the cold, hard ground or in the snow. 

 

It's in his locked dorm room, because Fuji has dragged Shiraishi off to who knows what, and pulling Echizen up to the top bunk is easier than one would think. It's also a lot easier to kiss him here, even though it feels a lot more real behind a locked door and in a tiny, cramped twin bed, and Yukimura is fairly certain he felt more confident in an open hallway or in the locker rooms. 

 

"Gimme," is all Echizen mutters between kisses when he reaches down and just _grabs_ Yukimura's cock, and damn, that's forward.

 

"Um," Yukimura attempts, though it's not as though his body wants to say _no_ , considering how hard he is just from having Echizen's hand on him like that, "can you wait like, five sec--"

 

"What?" Echizen irritably interrupts, and shit, Echizen's hand is down his _pants_ now, which kind of makes Yukimura's mind shut off when those fingers are sliding down the length of him. "Haven't you done it before?"

 

_Well, not like this_ , Yukimura desperately thinks, briefly contemplating Sanada and hot summers and then hospitals and those pesky heart monitors. "Have _you?"_

 

Oh, boy, does Echizen have a lot to say about that.

 

"You've got a long way to go," is his grumbling, sleepy mutter afterwards, and Yukimura shoves him off the top bunk and to the floor without any remorse. 

 

~

 

The next time, it's better.

 

The next time, Echizen's back is against a wall of lockers, his shorts dangling around one leg and his hands clawing down Yukimura's back. The next time, Yukimura knows not to be quite as _nice_ , and he doesn't care, anyway, because he's got claw marks that are bleeding through his jersey from how hard Echizen's nails are biting into his skin.

 

There's enough lube, and that's the part that counts. His cock is slick, and Echizen's thighs squeeze tight and trembly about his waist when he pushes in that first, aching inch, feeling Echizen's body shiver around him and his back arch and his voice break on a whine. Yukimura can't _breathe_ , and that's good, enough to make him shove his face into Echizen's hair and bite back his own voice when he just grabs handfuls of the other boy's ass to hold him _still_. 

 

"Yu…kimura-sem _pai_ \--"

 

"Be quiet," Yukimura groans, squeezing his eyes shut when he shoves forward, and Echizen's voice dissolves into a hitching, breathy keen. It's too much-- _probably_. His cock slides in long and deep and Echizen just shudders, wriggles down onto it as best he can in Yukimura's vice-like grip, clenching sweet and slick and tight around him. 

 

"C-can't," Echizen pants out, his head thrown back, hair slick with sweat over his forehead. "Can't--it's--"

 

The next shove makes their hips slap together, and Echizen goes limp except for how he clings to Yukimura with all four limbs. It's like some switch is flipped in him now that Yukimura's cock is completely buried inside, and Yukimura exhales a long, ragged breath, glancing down to try and see where they're connected. It's a mistake, considering how his cock throbs, and how Echizen _whimpers_ at the slightest movement of it all.

 

He's noisy. Someone's going to hear. Someone's going to _interrupt_ , more like, and that's the part that Yukimura doesn't want. It's easy enough to rip his headband off and shove that into Echizen's mouth, and judging by the way that Echizen just moans around it and wriggles forward, his cock leaking between them, there aren't any complaints about his decision. 

 

"See?" Yukimura just has to breathe into his ear, yanking him close, nearly off the lockers when he slides in long and hard and deep. "You can take it just fine." 

 

Echizen writhes like he's dying whenever Yukimura slides out of him, bites holes into his shoulders with his nails whenever they knead in hard, but Yukimura's sure that he returns the favor in leaving finger-shaped bruises behind, in hickeys and bites and the fact that Echizen's slick and dripping by the time he's done, buried in to the hilt when he spills inside and leaves Echizen whining around his damned headband. 

 

They're both a mess, really. Echizen comes twice, leaving them both sticky and slick, and he moves like he got hit by a truck afterwards, achy and sore and of no mind to actually climb to his feet. "Carry me," he insists, and Yukimura ignores him as he strips off his shirt and winces at the state of it as well as his own back.

 

"I'm bloody."

 

Echizen huffs. "I'm _dying_."

 

There's a long staring match that follows, and Yukimura dislikes explaining why he's giving piggy-back rides to one Echizen Ryouma back to the dorms. Sanada's judgmental stare mostly ruins it for him. Plus, Akaya is jealous.

 

~

 

Yukimura sleeps through the night. Room 201 rejoices, and Shiraishi wants to know what his cure-all is now. 

 

~

 

"Are you sticking around 'till the end?"

 

It's the tone of voice that makes Yukimura think he should be setting his teeth on edge rather than looking back at Echizen so placidly. "I'm not sure."

 

Echizen's head tilts. His racket thumps against his shoulder as it comes to rest there. "If you do," he says, logically, "then we'll be going for the same spot."

 

Yukimura's smile is there before he can help himself. "Like Nationals all over again, then." 

 

There's a shrug that follows. "You move a little better since then." 

 

There are few other compliments that could sound so damnably good to Yukimura's ears. 

 

 


End file.
